The Harder Road
by kgmohror
Summary: Fear and anger drove Kid to take drastic action in Willow Creek. Back in Sweetwater, he finds himself in turmoil over what he's done. Fortunately, someone older and wiser has some advice to offer.
_This is a companion to my story, "For Love or Honor." I've always been a little troubled by Kid's actions in "Blood Money." This is my way of working through what may have prompted him to behave to uncharacteristically._

A carpet of dew created a silvery sheen over the prairie as the first sliver of the sun's disk lit the eastern horizon. The paddock was still mostly wreathed in shadows, among them the tall, still figure of a man. A young cowboy leaned against the fence rail, chin resting on his folded arms, watching a trio of horses inside the corral. The animals stood close together, stamping and blowing plumes of white mist from their nostrils into the cool morning air.

Behind him, the sound of the necessary door slamming shut, followed by a series of grunts and mutterings, signaled the young man that he was about to have company.

"Kid, you look lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut," said Teaspoon as he joined his protégé at the fence line. "Care to share why you're holdin' up this stretch of fence at such an ungodly hour?"

Kid shrugged. "Jest thinkin'."

"About what happened yesterday in Willow Creek?" Teaspoon pressed.

"I guess." Kid toed the soil under his boots and waited for Teaspoon to offer up some of his well-intentioned, but usually convoluted, advice. But the former Texas Ranger remained silent. After a moment, Kid cleared his throat. "I s'pose … what happened in Willow Creek … well, parts of it just ain't settin' quite right."

"I cain't say I'm surprised."

The Virginian looked sharply at his mentor, scrutinizing his weathered features for the meaning behind his words. "You think I did wrong to call Lambert out?"

"Yes, son. I do."

Kid felt himself flush at this unexpected admonition. He'd been counting on Teaspoon to assure him he was justified. But apparently that wasn't how it was. "You don't believe Lambert deserved to pay for all he done?" Kid's tone held an edge of defensiveness.

Teaspoon shook his head. "That ain't what I said. Lambert was a bad man, a corrupt man. He might have upheld the law at one time, but his later breakin' of it earned him the end he got."

"So I _was_ right."

"I said he deserved a punishment to fit his crimes," Teaspoon clarified. "But not at your hand, Kid."

Kid's face hardened. "Well, if it was up to the townsfolk to bring him to justice, he'd be like to live to a ripe, old age and die in bed with his socks on."

"That may be, though I have a feelin' he would have gotten his just desserts sooner or later."

"So what difference does it make if I was the one to send him off?"

Teaspoon grunted. "In the grand scheme of things, not much difference to Lambert – though I reckon he'd argue the point with me. But it makes a great deal of difference for _you_ , Kid."

A muscle in Kid's jaw worked as he mentally chewed over the older man's words. Katy, the cowboy's beloved Paint mare, ambled over to the two men and nuzzled Kid's hand, asking for a pet. Automatically his rider turned his palm over the horse's muzzle and caressed it gently.

"Kid, when Dyson tried to steal Katy, you would have been within your rights to shoot him dead. But you didn't. Why not?" Teaspoon observed.

"Figured it was the law's job to judge him, not mine." Kid knew where this was going. But he had a rebuttal ready. "But doin' it the _proper_ way got an innocent man killed. It's partly my fault those Dyson children are orphans. You can believe that weighs heavier on me than Lambert's death."

"Does it really?" Teaspoon's voice was soft, but insistent.

Kid looked at the ground, suddenly confused. "Well, it oughta." Katy seemed to sense his discomfort and trotted off to rejoin her companions. With a frustrated grunt, Kid straightened from his slouch across the fence rail and gripped the rough board with both hands. "So how come it don't?"

Instead of answering directly, Teaspoon placed a hand on Kid's shoulder and said, "We both know Lambert wasn't the first man you sent to meet his Maker."

Images flashed before Kid's eyes: Southern sympathizer Jeremy "the Hawk" Styles … Lou's father, the gunrunner Boggs … the outlaw Johnson whose life he'd spared in their first encounter soon after he joined the riders, but whom he'd had to take down the next time they met … others from before he joined the riders, during a time he didn't care to remember.

"How'd you feel about them killings?" Teaspoon prodded.

"I ain't proud of 'em, but I had no choice. They was all gunnin' fer me, and it was either them or me."

"And was that how it was with Lambert?"

Kid glanced at Teaspoon, then down at his boots. "' I s'pose not." The young cowboy didn't like how he was feeling: hurt and guilty and resentful all at the same time. "Jimmy woulda called him out, too, in the same situation," he muttered.

"Yes, Jimmy would have." There was a ragged, sorrowful tone in Teaspoon's voice that made Kid look back at him. The seasoned cowboy's face was bleak and haunted, his eyes filled with sadness. Kid understood the implication of his words and expression: someday the hot-headed and quick-on-the-draw Hickok's luck would run out.

"Kid, this is a hard country, and it forces people to make hard decisions. Sometimes that means fightin' for what's right, what's important, what you believe in. But most times, it means bein' willing to take the harder road and walk away." At Kid's uncertain look, he added, "I've been around a lot longer than you, seen just about every kind of specimen of humanity – good and bad – that exists on this old world. I've known you long enough to tell you're one of the good ones … too good for your _own_ good, sometimes. And that's why I'm sure you understand killing Lambert wasn't the right thing to do."

The southern-born cowboy nodded glumly, admitting defeat. "I know, Teaspoon. And generally I try to avoid a scrap, even though it's hard sometimes." He didn't add that it had taken him a long time and hard experience to develop the coolness and control he prided himself on; the fact that he'd lost that temperance in this instance shamed him. But he also knew the cause. "It's just that, when I saw what he done to Lou …"

In his mind's eye he re-lived that moment when he'd looked down into her beautiful face and seen the marks of Lambert's fist there. He'd felt an instant rage, an overpowering hatred for Lambert like he'd never experienced before. The world around him had seemed to turn red as he stalked to Katy, galloped into town, demanded satisfaction from Lambert for the hurt he'd done to Louise. Shot him dead in the street. Thinking back now, it seemed to Kid like it wasn't even him in control of his actions, like he'd stood outside himself watching someone else use his body to do those things. It had been exhilarating at the time; it scared him now.

"I understand how him hurtin' Lou must have made you feel …" Teaspoon had only recently discovered the young boy he'd known as Lou was actually a young woman named Louise. Nevertheless, he'd already figured out that there was a special relationship between her and Kid.

"She coulda been killed, Teaspoon. Or worse." Unwillingly, his mind went back to the moment he'd first seen her dressed up like a barroom floozy. He didn't like imagining how the patrons of the saloon would be looking at her. He couldn't stand seeing how Jimmy looked at her. And he was ashamed of how his own body had responded to the sight of her painted up and half-dressed.

"Maybe so. But killin' Lambert didn't change what already happened to Lou, did it," Teaspoon reminded him gently. "So you weren't protectin' her as much as gettin' revenge for something you couldn't prevent or fix."

"It was my fault she got hurt!" Kid blurted. "She put herself in harm's way to save me from bein' strung up like Dyson by Lambert and his cronies."

"You didn't force her to do that, didja?"

Kid shook his head violently. "'Course not. I even told her not to, that I wasn't gonna let her. But she just wouldn't listen!"

"You mean she wouldn't do what you told her, isn't that right? Hate to break it to ya, Kid, but I've had six wives and never yet met a woman who was willin' to take orders from her man. Nor should she. Lou has the right to make her own choices."

"Even when they're foolish and dangerous?"

"I reckon she'd say the same about your decision to call Lambert out."

Without a good answer to that, Kid growled in frustration and pushed back from the fence. He began to pace, clenching and unclenching his fists in rhythm with his steps. "Yer right. I know yer right. But I cain't think straight when it comes to Lou, Teaspoon. Sometimes I think I'm goin' plumb crazy."

"Yeah, well, love will do that to a feller," Teaspoon commiserated with a smile.

Kid stopped pacing. "Love?" He was suddenly reminded of how it was becoming harder and harder to set off on a run, knowing it meant several days without seeing her. How much worse it was when it was Lou doing the riding, leaving him behind to fret and stew about her safety. How he'd been beside himself worrying while waiting for her to join them after escaping Willow Creek. And the pure and powerful joy that propelled him forward, running across the prairie to meet her when Lightning galloped into view. "I love Lou." There was a kind of wonder in his voice.

"Sure looks like that to me." Teaspoon had an amused smile on his face.

"So what do I do?"

The station master chuckled at that. "Kid, if I knew the answer to that, I wouldn't have six _ex_ -wives." Then he placed an affectionate arm around the young man's shoulders and steered him toward the bunkhouse. "Just be the sort of man Lou can be proud to give her heart to," he added.

Kid nodded. Teaspoon had given him much to think about – not the least of which was his realization that he was head over heels for Louise McCloud. He was determined to follow Teaspoon's advice and show Lou that he was a man she could depend on, a man who could, in Teaspoon's words, "take the harder road and walk away" from trouble. But he also understood that what he felt for Lou – the burning ache in his heart for her – was stronger than his common sense. He could only hope he wouldn't have to face many situations like he had with Lambert. Because, much as he wanted to, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't do the same thing again.


End file.
